Dreading Tonight
by i.paint.the.sky
Summary: Hermione has to tutor Draco in the History of Magic.  The sequel, Dreading Today, is now up as the second chapter.  Written for the Hermione FQF.  At present, no continuation is planned.
1. Dreading Tonight

Part of the United-Meant To Be (Gryffindor/Slytherin) Fuh-Q Fest. Response to the scenarios #46 Hermione tutors a Slytherin in a subject and #47 A one night stand between two enemies.

Author's Notes: As always, dedicated to Lacey, my oh-so-cool-and-wonderful Beta.

* * *

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, revealing to her an unfamiliar setting. She was in a bedroom, but it wasn't hers.

Startled she sat up, snatching at the sheets as they slid down, green silk on naked flesh. It was then that she heard the soft breathing beside her and remembered what had happened.

* * *

"You can't be serious!"

Hermione stared in shock at the Headmaster, certain she must have misheard what he had said.

"I most certainly am, Ms. Granger."

"I can't work with her!" said the other person in the room.

"And why not?"

"Well, since Mr. Malfoy doesn't seem to have any reason to object, I suggest the two of you make some arrangements." And with that, Albus Dumbledore exited the room, leaving two very horrified students behind him.

Hermione eyed Malfoy warily, as he did the same to her. Both realized that they had been outmanoeuvred, and there was no way of getting out of it.

"Fine, we might as well get this over with. I'll meet you in the library at, say, seven o'clock?"

"Who said you got to choose the time, Granger?"

"Well, since I am the one going out of my way to help you out, I think you owe me that much."

"Ha! I don't owe you anything. We both know neither of us is doing this by choice."

"Whatever. Just be there."

With on last glare at the boy, Hermione turned, dreading tonight when she would begin to tutor Draco Malfoy in History of Magic.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, dreading his upcoming tutoring session. It was bad enough that the stupid mudblood always got higher marks than him, but now she would be tutoring him? If his father ever heard about this, Draco didn't even want to consider what the consequences would be.

* * *

Seven o'clock seemed to come much too fast, as if time itself was conspiring against him to make his life miserable. Draco started to walk towards the library slowly, not caring that he would be late. He was half hoping for some disaster to strike and save him from this night. Even a hex from Potter would have been welcomed, but none came. Draco arrived safe and sound at the library, 7 minutes after 7.

"You're late," said Granger, not even bothering to look up from the textbook placed on the table in front of her.

"Really," Draco replied, voice thick with sarcasm.

"Yes, really. But anyways, you're here now. Sit down."

"You think you can order me around, Granger?"

Finally her head lifted, her eyes glaring ice at him. "Yes I do, Malfoy. Because I'm going to help you pass this class and have a shot at becoming Head Boy next year. Now, SIT!"

With a scowl he obeyed, slumping down on the seat across from him. "Fine, let's just get this torture over with."

"Fine by me, I have better things to do then spend tonight with you."

Draco laughed. "Like what? Hanging around with Potter and Weasel while they talk about Quidditch?"

"What I do with my personal time is none of your concern, Malfoy. What you should be worried about is that fact that you seem incapable of scoring higher than Acceptable in History of Magic."

"Yeah, because you know, knowing old stuff is just SO important."

"Knowledge of the past is essential for the future. If you don't know what happened before, how can you possibly predict what outcome any of your actions will have?"

Draco glanced over at Granger, meeting her gaze. Her eyes held none of the expected mockery, only honest certainty. Draco looked away.

"Well, that may be, but how does anyone expect me to learn about that stuff, with Binns' droning?"

Granger suddenly laughed, a surprisingly beautiful sound. "You're not actually supposed to pay attention to Binns."

"What?"

"To actually understand History of Magic, you have to totally ignore Professor Binns. It's much easier to learn the material by reading the textbook, at your own pace. Take notes on the important information, memorize key dates, and you're set."

"Hmm. I never really thought about doing that. I've always been able to get by just by paying attention in class."

"Usually a good strategy, but not with Binns. With him it seems to more you listen, the worse you do."

"But, on the plus side, you do get to catch up on sleep."

Granger laughed again, and Draco could feel a smile appearing on his face. Suddenly they locked gazes and he remembered himself again. He was in Slytherin, she was a Gryffindor. He was pureblood to her mudblood. They were supposed to be enemies. They shouldn't be having a good time together.

Silently Draco turned back to his books, keeping discussion to a minimum and trying to not enjoy each Granger's company.

* * *

The weeks passed by and Hermione continued the tutoring sessions. And his marks were steadily increasing. She was very proud of herself, and of Draco. He had just scored Outstanding on his latest essay, and Hermione knew that tonight was the time to let him go off on his own.

She would have thought the end of her roles as tutor would be happy, but instead she could feel a weight in the pit of her stomach, a dread that she could not dispel. No matter how much she hated to admit it, she had begun to look forward to these times, and to enjoy Draco's company.

She had arrived at the library ten minutes early, setting up the books as usual. And then she sat, waiting for the last tutoring session to begin.

Draco watched as the clock struck seven. The tension of dread in his body had not abetted all day. After that last test, he had been so excited, until he realized that he no longer needed a tutor. He had a feeling that tonight Hermione would finally end the sessions, thus severing the only tie they had between them. Despite himself, those times had become the highlight of his day. Well, one of the highlights at least.  
The minute hand went round and round seven times, before he finally decided that it would be better spend this night with his tutor than to miss the last session all together.

Hermione sat next to Draco, looking over the latest History of Magic test and examining the answers, looking for areas to improve on, of which there weren't many. Draco had almost aced the test. The only person to out-score him was Hermione herself.

It had gone unsaid, but Hermione knew that he realized this was the end of the tutoring. He didn't need it anymore. His marks had far exceeded her original plan and it was very likely he would be Head Boy the following year.

They had finished looking at another page, so she reached up to turn the paper over to see the end of the test. At the same moment Draco went to do the same thing, ending up with his hand covering hers. The touch was so unexpected Hermione almost jerked her hand back. But instead she fought against instinct and looked over at Draco, gazing into his eyes and enjoying the feel of his fingers upon her.

* * *

Draco's eyes opened as he felt unexpected movement on his bed. He was greeted by the sight of Hermione's naked back and memories of the previous night flooded back to him. He continued to watch as Hermione gathered her clothes and dressed.

It was only as she was about to leave that she turned back towards him and saw that Draco was awake. She stood still for a moment, watching Draco as he watched her. In her eyes he could see his own feelings, a mess of crashing emotions, and the uncertainty about what would happen next.


	2. Dreading Today

Part of the United-Meant To Be (Gryffindor/Slytherin) Fuh-Q Fest, Second Wave. Response to the scenarios #1 Create a story based off of these words - thestral, family, loyalty; #39 Incorporate this sentence, "You're not at all what I expected."; #28 Professor McGonagall catches someone, or should I say someones, in the act; #66 Incorporate this sentence, "He's wicked and evil, I know that. But I want him."; #79 One kiss leads to another, and then some.

Author's Notes: Dedicated to my partner in crime, Daughter of Yub Yub (who will likely never even read this story ^_^), who helps me in my attempt to rid the world of bad fic, one story at a time. And of course, my ever-present and appreciated beta, Lacey!

* * *

She wouldn't look at him. Or, at least, she hadn't. No matter how hard Draco tried to meet her gaze, Hermione would not look at him.

He didn't understand it. Certainly had this been the day before – even few hours earlier – this reaction would have been expected. The aftermath of their night together had been a shock that sent both of them reeling.

But after what had happened today he had thought that whatever they had between them was back on track, that both of them had accepted their feelings and were committed to whatever the future brought them.

Draco was beginning to think it had all been a fantasy, a taste of what would never be. Then he looked over to the Gryffindor table again, and fell into her gaze.

She lay on her bed, motionless. She had done this all day, refusing to leave, even for meals. She didn't even go to class. Hermione knew her behavior must have worried Harry and Ron, but she needed some time to clear her head, time to understand what had happened last night. This was an issue that she had to deal with by herself, something that even her best friends would not be able to help with.

She had slept with Draco Malfoy.

There, she had admitted it, if only to herself. And, what was worse, she would do it exactly the same all over again. She had wanted to sleep with him, and she had chosen the bath that had led to his bed. And it was this knowledge that kept her underneath her blanket, struggling to rationalize this.

'He's wicked and evil…' she thought to herself. 'I know that…But I want him. I want to be with him. Now and forever.'

She slipped into the library at seven, as usual. Her stomach ached from hunger, but she ignored its rumblings. She had missed an entire day's worth of lessons, seeking answers that never came. Now she had to study hard, to make up for today's weakness. She needed to learn more, more, more. She wanted to cram enough knowledge into her head that thoughts of Draco would be driven out and replaced.

Her head realized this would not work, but her heart was desperate. The conflict inside of her was driving her mad. And the only response she could think of was to throw herself into school. It was the only response she knew.

She hadn't been there long, only seven minutes or so, when she felt his presence. 'Typical,' she thought. 'He was always seven minutes late, exactly.'

She tried to make herself look at him, but found she couldn't.

"Hermione."

His voice spoke her name like a caress, a caress she wanted to melt into. All the day's conflict rushed back at her, consuming her. She wanted this, but she couldn't let it go on.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she whispered, before rushing out of the library, eyes downcast to hide her tears.

* * *

"Leave me alone, Malfoy."

Her words rang in his ears, even after she was long out of Draco's sight. Particularly the last one. Malfoy. It had been so long since he had last heard those two, hateful syllables coming from her. "Bad faith", they meant together. The name suited his family like a pair of tailored robes.

He sat down in what, moments before, had been her chair, enjoying the lingering warmth which was fading far too fast. He didn't know what to do. He, Draco Malfoy, usually considered the most confident boy in all of Hogwarts, didn't have a clue. He knew what he wanted to do, but apparently that wasn't an option.

Today had been one of the most confusing days of his life. From the earliest moments, waking beside that beautiful girl, to now, sitting alone in the library, this day had made absolutely no sense. How had he fallen for Hermione Granger, of all people? A Gryffindor, a know-it-all, not to mention a mudblood. 'Muggle-born', he corrected himself.

He sighed deeply, dropping his head to rest on his hand. There was proof that this mess would never work out. He had been raised to think of anyone non-pure as being substandard, and though she had proven him wrong countless times, the belief was still there, deeply routed in his psyche. How could he have ever thought it could work? He sighed again, frustrated by heart and head.

Suddenly he felt eyes on him. Eyes everywhere, watching him. He looked up and into the crowd. He gave them all his best arrogant glare, then stood up and left the library. He considered retracing Hermione's steps, but what use was it? Spirit and heart as low as he could ever remember, Draco turned towards the Slytherin dungeons and didn't look back.

He hadn't been able to sleep all night, not in the bed that less than twenty-four hours before had been shared. He stayed awake through all the hours, staring at the stands of chestnut hair left behind on the pillow. He knew he should move them, but that would erase the signs of her being there, would make it appear that the previous night had all been a wonderful dream.

Finally dawn broke, and he tore himself away from their sight in disgust. He couldn't believe how completely consumed he was by Hermione Granger. She obviously wanted nothing to do with him, yet he still desperately wanted her. Forcing himself out of bed, Draco quickly got dressed and headed downstairs for an early breakfast. For once luck was on his side and he avoided all those he wished to avoid.

He attempted to work on his homework but found he just couldn't concentrate. Facts seemed to elusively flee his mind's grasp. He hand hovered motionless over the parchment, ink droplets staining the page.

Eventually the blankness of brain and page was too much. In his attempt to not think of her, of course he could think of nothing else. The sunlight blazing through the window attracted his attention and, needing a break, he went outside to join it. It glittered especially bright on the waters of the lake, dancing on the ripples caused by wind and squid. Drawn to its beauty he headed towards it, and stumbled upon another, even greater beauty.

* * *

Hermione often came here to sit and read, when the noise of Gryffindor Tower finally overwhelmed her. It was so peaceful right here, beside the lake, especially on days as lovely as this one. But today she hadn't escaped to study, but to clear her mind.

She had thought it was almost a success, when she heard the footsteps behind her. Her heart soared as she recognized the all-too-familiar step. But, perhaps it was a good thing. It would be impossible to avoid him forever; they still had another year of school before graduation. And apparently fate was working against her in that aspect, pushing them back together at every turn. No, avoidance was not the answer. She would deal with him now.

She turned and the movement captured his attention. Hermione suddenly realized he hadn't even known she was there. She smiled slightly at the idea that she had surprised Draco Malfoy, but then again their recent actions had surprised them both.

She raised her head, looking straight into his silver eyes. "Sit down, Draco. Please. We need to talk."

He did as he was told, settling himself down just far enough away that even their clothing didn't touch. And then there was silence. And more silence.

"You said we needed to talk, Hermione. So…talk."

She laughed, but there was a newfound tenseness to that laugh, a nervousness Draco had never associated with her before. "I know I said that. But, now I can't think of anything to say. This is just so impossible."

"I know."

"It's just…there's just…I don't know what to do."

"Well neither do I. There are so many reasons we shouldn't be together: family, friends, house loyalty. Everything points to us being enemies, like we've always been, not lovers."

She smiled bitterly. " 'My only love sprung from my only hate.' "

Draco looked at her. "What?"

"Romeo and Juliet."

He stared at her blankly, wondering if she was losing her mind.

Hermione sighed in annoyance. "Surely you've heard of Shakespeare."

"Shake-what?"

"William Shakespeare. Only the greatest playwright in English history."

"Oh. Muggle stuff."

"Yes, MUGGLE stuff." She paused, looking so utterly lost that Draco almost wrapped her in his arms. "We come from such different worlds."

Silence overcame conversation again. There was nothing he could say to dispute the truth.

Her words hung heavily over their heads. They confirmed what both of them knew, that this, whatever this was, could never work. But how her heart ached at this admittance, yearning for something to come, anything, to make it all go away.

Suddenly Draco shook in surprise, his eyes staring widely at something behind her. She quickly spun, but saw nothing.

"What is it?"

His gray eyes drew away from whatever he had been watching, drifting back to her. "Oh, nothing. Don't worry about it. Just one of those thestrals we learned about last year."

"You can see thestrals?"

"Yes."

The implications of this quickly pounced on her. "Draco…who did you see die?"

She saw the desire to lie flicker over his face but quickly dissipate. He too had realized the loaded value of his previous admission. "I, um, my maternal grandmother die. When I was seven."

"Were you close?"

"Not really, well, I suppose as close as tradition would allow. I wish I had known her better, but I was just a child."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"You know, you're not at all what I expected."

"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"

"I haven't decided yet. I can't quite make up my mind. We hardly know each other, really. I'm sure you don't even know what my favourite colour is."

Draco thought about this for a moment. "That may be true, but I do know one thing."

"And that is?"

"That neither of us wants this to end before it's even truly begun."

Hermione looked down, but Draco reached over, lightly lifting her gaze back up to him.

"You don't, do you?" he asked softly, faces close enough to form the outline of a vase.

"No."

The answer was all he needed as persuasion to break that vase image, pressing his lips against hers.

* * *

Hermione could feel his gaze upon her as she entered the Great Hall. She didn't meet it, her cheeks still burning from the afternoon's embarrassment. They had been mere moments from making love again when a sudden voice had interrupted. The voice of her head of house, Minerva McGonagall. She could feel more colour rising to her face as she looked towards where the professor sat at the staff table. Quickly turning away, she devoted herself to the task of eating.

She could feel his confusion. The constant query of his eyes. But she still evaded him, refusing to meet his gaze. It was as much for the perverse pleasure of the hunted as for her piece of mind during the meal. She sat, and talked, and ate, but never looked in his direction.

Pity finally overcome her, and she glanced towards the Slytherin table. Immediately he looked up, piercing her with silver. And then his mouth moved, shaping one word.

Purple.

She barely kept from laughing as she smiled and nodded. Her favourite colour. If he could know that without ever being told, perhaps there was hope lying in their future.


End file.
